


hit your hallelujah

by orphan_account



Category: DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Bottom Hal, LITERALLY just sex, M/M, PWP, this is sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 11:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7312675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry heats up during sex, which is a pleasant surprise for Hal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hit your hallelujah

            It’s cold.

            “Captain Cold does that,” says Barry, grinning at him and even though it’s the fucking cowl Hal _knows_ that Barry’s baby blues are twinkling. Hal should never have said he can handle a little chill. As it turns out, space cold and Captain Cold are two very different things.

            The Flash has rounded up his Rogues, however, while Hal provided a neat distraction and the CCPD is rounding up the last of the victims of the ice and Barry is humming some utterly stupid song. Hal thinks it was on the radio last week. He doesn’t remember listening to it before then, but he’d been chasing Sinestro across the galaxy and music, he’s learned, changes faster than Barry can run and he’s stopped bothering keeping up with every new beat. He’ll stick to the classics.

            “Let’s head home, hm?” offers Barry, as he starts vibrating his hands over the ice encasing Hal’s lower body. Hal is definitely thinking about those hands vibrating along his skin. They’re both new at this. The dating each other thing. Barry wanted to take it slow. Hal had laughed at the irony of it. A speedster going slow. And then the irony had become two space missions away, three polite dates that ended crashed by the Rogues, Oliver, and a very apologetic Wally respectively and now slow has become practically glacial. Hal’s tired of waiting.

            The ice around Hal’s body is melting away, slipping into a wet puddle around his legs, soaking into the skin of his suit. To be fair, Hal could have blasted the ice off with a well-placed construct. But Barry had already started vibrating his hands and who was Hal to stop him.

            “It’s cold,” says Hal again, as he grips Barry’s neck and lets himself be carried back to Coast City.

            It’s grudgingly faster when Barry zooms them into Hal’s place, and it stopped being cold the minute Hal wrapped himself around Barry. The man’s practically a space heater, working his body on some other sort of plane and Hal didn’t even need a blanket last night.

            Barry laughs, as he shucks the costume, as Hal’s ring goes quiet and they’re no longer the Flash and Green Lantern.

            “I’ll order a pizza,” Barry says, already dialing the number. He’s in corduroy pants that do nothing for his figure and Hal’s ring makes a construct, a light, green sliver of rope winding through the corduroy’s like a belt, as Hal pulls him over and the pizza man clicks the phone off. Barry’s laughing but not resisting, letting himself be pulled to Hal’s whims though they both know he could easily get out of such a hold.

            “Warm me up,” Hal orders, as Barry drops the phone onto the couch and grins wickedly at Hal in a way that sends a shiver up his spine. It’s cold, thinks Hal, way too cold and his fingers crawl up Barry’s spine as the speedster laughs and says, “We’ve got forty-five minutes –

            Hal shuts him up with a greedy kiss. His lips meet Barry’s and there’s the taste of electricity and the coffee that Barry consumes. It’s sweet, too bloody sweet and Barry’s light moan catches Hal’s ears and he’s warming up. Barry settles himself over Hal’s thighs, climbing onto the couch and moving his hands to catch Hal’s cheeks and it’s so fucking _warm_.

            Barry’s warmer than anything Hal knows. Than anything Hal expected. The hard planes of Barry’s jaw are caught by Hal’s lips next. He’s pressing warm kisses across Barry’s jaw, across Barry’s neck and that’s the worst button-down shirt in the world because it’s taking up way too much space.

           Barry’s laughing, as his fingers catch through Hal’s hair, redirecting Hal’s attention back to Barry’s blue eyes and they’re sparkling in the same way Hal imagined they were after the Cold fiasco. With a wicked grin and laughter, as though there’s an inside joke that nobody is privy to but them. Barry’s lips catch Hal’s untidily, because they moved together and in different directions and they’re struggling to find purchase. Hal’s fingers catch Barry’s shirt, pulling on those buttons as Barry’s fingers slide across to Hal’s hips, and it’s warm and Hal can feel him through the thickness of his jeans.

            Can feel the imprint of Barry’s hands.

            “I haven’t-

            Barry pulls away as Hal gets the first button loose. He’s biting his lower lip, hesitant. Hal’s fingers abandon the buttons of the shirt to push a thumb stubbornly across Barry’s teeth, freeing that lip that’s so fucking plump and Barry bats the hand away absently and Hal frowns now.

            “I haven’t done this,” says Barry, a hand going through his blonde hair and the spark fades, “Since I became the Flash.”

            Hal stops moving, because he didn’t - well he did but – suddenly there’s a lot riding on this.

            “I’ve got you,” says Hal, pressing his lips back to Barry’s, soft and promising before pulling away, “We’ll stop if things get –

            Barry seems to understand because he nods and presses back into Hal, lips brushing against Hal’s and there’s silence, catching them in a silent promise. Hal’s hands brush against Barry’s hips, pulling him closer and Barry’s heat is over his cock and Hal groans into Barry’s kiss and suddenly there’s tongue and Hal needs to get out of his clothes before he burns up. His hands abandon Barry’s buttons to pull at his own shirt, chucking the flimsy thing over the couch and Barry pulls back to study the expanse of skin Hal has to offer.

            Fingers catch the sides of Hal’s skin, studying him with laser focus and Hal wants to say that he’s not a specimen but he really, really wants to know what Barry’s thinking in this moment. He’s had countless girls giggle, spread their fingers across his chest and marvel at the tightness of his abs and he’s never been this flustered over Barry Allen looking at him like a science project. Can Barry see down to his molecules? To the atoms that make Hal who he is?

            Hal’s flushed because of the _heat_. His hands travel to Barry’s shirt again and his face dives into Barry’s pale neck and he mutters, “You need to get out more. Get some sun.”

            Barry laughs again, helping Hal with the buttons and the shirt slips off, messily meeting the floor and Hal wants to look but Barry’s fingers are diving into Hal’s skin, exploring the lines of Hal’s body and they’ve reached his hips, studying the lines there and Hal groans at the heat of Barry’s fingers across his skin.

            Two can play at that game.

            Hal’s hands reach up Barry’s chest and it’s warm, and he draws a finger across the pink of Barry’s nipple and Barry groans out loud and Barry needs to do that again. Hal repeats the motion and Barry is tugging at his jeans now, and Hal grins as he brings his lips to kiss Barry’s collarbone. There’s a pale reddish-purple bruise left as Hal moves again, lips catching Barry’s ear as his hands deliberately circle around Barry’s nipple and everything is so warm.

            The heat is starting to make Hal sweat.

            “Bedroom,” growls Hal, because he wants to get Barry out of those pants, wants to press –

            Or be pressed, it turns out, because Barry’s hovering over him and goddamn the speed should not be a turn on but Hal arches upwards to press himself against the speedster. It’s not hot, that Barry could _wreck_ him if Hal wasn’t careful. Still, Hal’s burning, burning, burning as Barry’s lips move across his chest, a finger now toying with his nipple and Hal’s groans echo around the room, because fuck _Barry Allen_ , who wears fucking corduroy.

Not to be out done, he’s capturing Barry and pulling him against Hal and they’re kissing, lips brushed up against each other and Hal is grinning into each kiss, as Barry’s hands stroke down Hal’s sides.

“You should vibrate them,” says Hal, and Barry makes a sound that was probably meant to be a question but Hal’s flipped them over now and Barry’s pants are in the way and –

“Are you turned on, Mr. Allen?” asks Hal, grinning as he moves to the pants and catches the zipper with his teeth. Barry is flushed, as Hal unbuttons him. There’s heat everywhere, warmth wafting over Hal and he can feel the droplets of sweat now clinging to his hair, to his skin. And just as he finally – _finally_ , gets a hold of those pants to rip off – the doorbell rings.

“Let me up,” says Barry, amused, “It’s the pizza.”

Hal moves, but only after whispering, “No pants when you get back.”

Another day, he’ll take off those pants himself but right now he’s got about five minutes maybe, before Barry gets back and his own jeans are being tossed across the room. And it’s strangely cold on his bed without Barry, and he feels a bit at a loss as the air catches around him and he’s got the lube and they never discussed who tops. His jeans have caught on the closet door and it creaks open as Hal stretches across the bed, spreading his legs and leaning against the headboard, boxer shorts being pulled off haphazardly. And Barry is –

_“So you’re studying computer sciences at Coast City U?”_

Hal’s boxers fly out the door and he hopes that someone, preferably Barry, sees them go. There’s an awkward silence, and Hal grins, smug.

Two minutes later and Barry is back and –

“You’re still wearing pants,” says Hal, as Barry splutters because Hal knows how to work presentation and he’s leaning against the headboard with his hand stroking his cock and it’s red, standing at attention as Hal holds out his hand. Barry’s on top of him, naked and equally hard and Hal’s hands grip Barry as he hisses, “That was rude, Hal –

Hal doesn’t care because from where he is, this worked out really well for him. Barry is all kinds of warm as Hal moves his hands around Barry’s cock and says, “You were taking too long.”

Barry says nothing because Hal’s hand is tight around Barry, and the dry friction is probably not enough so he brings his hand to Barry’s mouth and his fingers are brushing against those seriously pink lips.

            Barry’s tongue darts out between them, looking at Hal with serious annoyance as Hal asks, “Who tops?”

            Barry’s got the lube and Hal didn’t even see him move. As far as he knows, Barry’s been tonguing his fingers and Hal could watch this all day. It’s going to be impossible to not think of this image and now he’s going to envision those lips around his fingers, sucking obscenely, even in the bloody Flash costume and this, thinks Hal, might be his newest kink, Barry Allen’s lips sucking anything, preferably Hal’s fingers, preferably Hal’s cock. He’s going to have a hard on forever.

            Barry’s lubed hand is around Hal’s cock and he groans. It’s hot and wet and he’s never had a hand-job like that before. It’s like he’s in a hot tub, or a really warm bath or inside Barry and the heat is streaking along his skin and taking over his entire body. It’s like being under a blanket, on a really hot day in the summer but _good_. Like being hugged by a crowd of Barry Allens. He’s burning, burning, _burning_.

            Hal’s lips are on Barry’s neck, sucking desperately at skin as Barry’s hand tightens around the both of them and the heat from Barry’s cock, from his hand is driving Hal insane and he’s not going to blow like he’s fifteen and in the back of a car with one of the cheerleaders. He’s not.

            “You’d make a really great cheerleader,” mutters Hal around the hickeys, already fading from Barry’s skin and Barry stops what he’s doing which wasn’t the point at all to ask, “What?”

            Hal takes over, his hands catching the lubed cocks, twisting around them and Hal says, “Focus, Barry.”

            Barry makes a sound of but it’s muffled as Hal’s lips catch his again and it’s so fucking hot Hal needs to turn the air conditioning on after he’s done with Barry and suddenly –

            Barry freezes, groaning as he spills out across Hal’s hand and Hal blinks as Barry flops over and well, he’s not upset, per say, but he’s still hard and Barry –

            “Give me a minute,” says Barry, flopped out beside Hal and flushed and the heat, the inexplicable heat is Barry Allen radiating like a furnace and Hal can’t help but say, “Oh my god you’re so fucking _hot._ ”

            Barry blinks at him, as his hand reaches lazily for his own cock again and he’s –

            “You can do that?”

            “Speedster metabolism,” says Barry, and he’s flushed as he says, “Been trying to hold back but –

            Hal’s the one making a sound, high pitched and it’s not a squeak but it catches in his throat and nothing can stop him from saying, “Oh my god you’re hot and you’re so hot.”

            “What?” asks Barry, and Hal’s wiping off sweat from the back of his neck as a shiver of want crawls up his spine.

            “Barry, you’re burning up,” says Hal, “Like, really hot. You’re practically a sauna. And you can have _multiple orgasms_ just like _that_.”

            Barry’s face drops, and he’s suddenly looking hesitant. He’s not even stroking his cock anymore and Hal realizes that maybe that delivery wasn’t his most well executed performance. That’s fine. Hal’s recovered from worse moments.

            “Barry, I’ve never had sex in a sauna,” says Hal, trying to backtrack, trying to make things better and all Barry says is, “That’s dangerous.”

            “So is taking on Captain Cold but I did that this morning!”

            “You’re heart rate could –

            Hal kisses him.

            “My heart always flutters around you,” says Hal absently, lips pressing into Barry’s as his hand, wet with Barry’s cum, takes over stroking the speedster, slowly, gently, “And I like the heat. Better than being cold.”

            Barry still seems uncertain and Hal grins as he says, “Just relax, Barry Allen. I’ll stop if gets dangerous.”   

            Barry lets Hal take over, lets Hal’s hands slip over Barry’s skin, across to his hips. Hal’s lips move down, ignoring his own hard cock, as he licks up the side of Barry’s hips, pressing soft kisses into Barry’s thighs and there is definitely muscle there. Hal grabs the lube, spilling it over his hands as he presses his lips to Barry’s cock and his fingers catch the lube and bring it to Hal’s hole, gently pressing the rim and getting ready to prep himself.

            Barry groans, and Hal’s eyes are the ones smirking up at Barry now, as the heat of Barry’s cock emanates across his face and does this count as having sex in a sauna? Should he cross that off the bucket list? Effectively every sex position on his bucket list now boils down to trying it with Barry and this is something he was not prepared for. Is not prepared for.

            Accepts anyways.

            Hal slips his mouth of Barry’s cock with a pop. Barry grabs his hair and tugs him up for a fierce kiss and Hal groans as the sudden movement causes his finger that was starting to slip into his hole to thrust forward and Barry’s kiss softens in apology. Peppery, light kisses as Hal stretches himself, second finger joining the first and it’s Barry who’s hot hot hot hands trace across Hal’s skin, across his thighs. Barry’s fingers press into the muscle of Hal’s thighs, moving to grip his ass and Hal breaks the kiss as Barry asks, “May I?”

            “You’re so fucking –

            Whatever he’s going to say is lost, as Hal catches Barry’s cheeks with both his hands and kisses him again. He’s burning, as Barry squeezes the lube out onto his fingers, burning, as Barry’s fingers brush against his rim, burning as Barry pushes in. Hal groans into Barry’s mouth, as the heat of Barry’s hands enters him and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. It’s like a hot towel, like the ones handed out on flights, but better because it’s Barry, because that dangerously warm feeling is spreading inside of Hal and melting him.

            He needs to run into Captain Cold more.

            Hal pushes Barry back, moves to straddle him. He reaches across the nightstand and grabs the condom. The packet rips easily and another day, maybe, he’ll show Barry the trick where he puts it on using his mouth. For now, he presses it down over Barry’s cock, using his hand to squeeze around him.

            He sinks down onto Barry, lets the heat from Barry’s cock, Barry’s skin, take over and Hal is sweating. He’s definitely sweating. Barry for the most part has gone slack-jawed, blonde hair plastered across his forehead and staring up at Hal with those baby blue eyes.

            “You’re beautiful,” says Barry, fervently, and Hal sinks lower, lower, gripping tight around Barry as he gets to the base and he feels full, and his heart is fluttering and it’s not the heat. Or maybe it is the heat.

            “ _You’re_ beautiful,” retorts Hal, fingers dancing to Barry’s chest, to feel the heat of his skin.

            For a moment, they are quiet, breathing on each other’s skin, in each other’s arms.

            And then Hal grins as he says, “Buckle up, Flash. I’m taking you for a ride.”

            Barry makes a face that looks appalled and Hal cackles, as he starts to slide up, the heat of Barry’s skin, fingers, cock, all over Hal. He’s going to drown. They should put this on his headstone except he promised Barry he wasn’t going to let the sex ruin them, so. There’s that.

            Hal starts to speed up and Barry breathes, “slow down.”

            So Hal does.

            It’s slow, he’s grinding down more than riding, really, twisting himself on Barry’s dick and he’s so fucking hard. Barry doesn’t need to be asked, as his hand grabs Hal’s cock and starts to stroke in the most torturously slow way and Barry murmurs into his neck, “You’re so warm.”

            Hal has a retort planned, he does, but he really is so warm. The feeling of Barry all around him is like nothing else. It’s like he’s losing his virginity all over again but _better_. There’s no awkwardness, no fumbling in the dark or trepidation that anybody’s going to walk in. There’s just Hal, and Barry, and heat crawling along their skin and sweat dripping down Hal’s neck and Barry’s lips taking his again and the faint taste of coffee and electricity and Hal’s cock is throbbing.

            The lube is dripping out, there’s too much. He’s sticky and Barry’s rocking up and Hal’s rocking down and it’s slow, wet, messy.

            Up. Down.

            Up. Down.

            Breathe.

            “Hi,” says Hal, as he opens his eyes and looks at Barry who’s still looking at him with awe. Barry laughs, even though it’s really not that funny and then he speeds his hand up, as Hal’s hips twist faster and they’re so close. Barry's hand speeds up and he breathes against Hal's skin and there's no words for this feeling of heat thrusting into him, around him.

The orgasm bursts over his skin and Hal groans, flushed as he jerks forward, as Barry catches his hips and kisses him through it. Hal spills out over between them and Barry's lips press against Hal's jaw. He’s still hard inside Hal but he pulls out rather than finishing. Hal grips Barry and tugs, laying back, exhausted on the bed and watches from the side as Barry cums again, this time into the condom. Barry slips it off and vanishes for a split second.

            He returns with pizza and a wet towel, and settles into the bed that’s still burning up, suffocating Hal who feels sticky and ridiculous. The towel is warm, soaking up the cum and tossed to the side.

            As Barry takes a bite of the pizza, Hal feels himself drifting off to sleep. Food later, maybe. The last thing he hears is Barry, crying out in dismay, “It’s gone cold!”

 


End file.
